


The Postman Always Comes Twice

by Ladytalon



Category: Stargate: SG-1
Genre: F/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-09
Updated: 2010-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-10 00:50:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/93435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladytalon/pseuds/Ladytalon





	The Postman Always Comes Twice

"I have to be a what?" Baal asks, dropping the newspaper slightly so that his eyes meet hers just over the latest installment of _Doonesbury_.

Sam pushes the catalog over to him and taps a finger on the appropriate picture. "A mailman."

Baal leans over the table and peers down at the picture of the outfit, worn by a model flourishing a handful of letters. "If that's what you'd like," he says skeptically.

She checks the mail conscientiously for the next week until the discretely labelled box finally arrives and after carefully ironing the outfit and hanging it up, Sam impatiently waits for Baal to return home from Area 51.

The chimes of the Asgard beam signal his arrival, and she greets him with a kiss before pointing towards the clothes hanger. "Look."

His right eyebrow arches. "Will it fit?" Baal asks, inspecting the tiny navy blue short-shorts and matching cap.

"It'll stretch," Sam says eagerly. "I checked."

  


_ _ _ _ _ _

  
Sam's sitting on the couch with a glass of wine, alternately flipping through the pages of a magazine and admiring her new pair of high-heels, when the doorbell rings. Twice.

"That must be the package I've been waiting for," she says to no one in particular.

When she opens the door, Sam is greeted by the sight of the sexiest mailman she's ever seen. Her eyes roam over his muscular body, which is shown to advantage by tight-fitting shorts (which must be the postal service's new summer uniform since she's never seen it before). "Yes?" she asks.

The mailman looks up from the bundle of letters in his hands, and Sam breathes in sharply at how incredibly handsome he is. "Yes, Ma'am; are you" he glances back down at the address on one of the letters "Samantha Carter? I have a package for you."

He almost seems to be sniggering about something. "I've been waiting all day for it," Sam says, pushing the door open in invitation and stepping back so that he can see how her electric blue negligee matches her eyes.

"Just let me retrieve my…pen," he hints, looking her up and down slowly.

"My husband won't be home until later tonight," Sam breathes, running a fingertip across her décolletage suggestively.

The pile of letters scatter on the floor and his hands are immediately on her waist, lifting her up onto the entryway table. "That leaves us with plenty of time," he assures her.

Sam runs her hands up his muscular arms and down his chest, wriggling into a more comfortable position. "What did you say that your name was?"

"I didn't," he murmured, nuzzling at her neck.

He tells her what it is as he runs his tongue over the pulse point in her throat, and Sam arches into him with a sigh. She's never heard the name 'Baal' before, but she figures that he must be from Europe - after all, he has one of the sexiest accents she's ever heard. "That's an interesting name."

"This...lacy thing you're wearing is far more interesting," Baal promises her, sliding a hand up to cup her breast through the sheer fabric. The fingers of his other hand thread through her mid-length blonde hair and pull her face close to his for a kiss. Sam melts against his hard body as he covers her mouth with his, sending a surge of pure lust to pool in her stomach.

Absent-mindedly stretching out a long leg to kick the front door shut, Baal shifts the grip of his right hand from her breast to the small of her back as he steps into the vee of her body, maneuvering her against his arousal. The ridge of him presses into the sensitive flesh between her legs, and Sam's sighs grow steadily louder as Baal wraps his arms around her lower body and begins to rub against her in earnest.

Sam twines her arms around his neck, his goatee chafing against the side of her face as he moves against her. "So do you do this with all the women on your route?" she gasps, trying to move her hand down into the fascinatingly tight shorts he's still wearing.

"Only the ones who answer the door wearing lingerie." Baal nips at her neck. "Turn around."

She obeys, leaning on the small table for balance and staring at his reflection in the hall mirror as Baal moves her hair over her shoulder, leaning down to kiss her skin reverently. Looking in the mirror, Sam sees him bend down to pull off the rest of his uniform before positioning himself behind her. She shivers as she watches Baal reach his hand down between their bodies, shifting his hips until his thick length is sliding inside her.

Baal thrusts in and out of her slowly, and his eyes almost seem to glow as he looks directly at her in the mirror. "Does your husband please you like this?" he asks in a tone that makes another shiver run up her spine. Sam's mouth opens and closes as he thrusts harder and Baal smooths a hand up her tailbone, not seeming to expect an answer. "You like this, don't you?" he asks next.

He wants her to answer him this time, and Sam licks her lips as she nods. She squeals in surprise when Baal suddenly shoves in deep and wraps his arms around her waist, holding her to him as he carries her into the kitchen and dumps her on the linoleum. Pushing back onto him Sam cries out as Baal sets a rhythm that nearly makes her fall onto her face, and her fingers claw at the floor as he slides a hand around her hip.

Sam comes as he rubs his fingers against her faster, and she writhes helplessly while the only thing that keeps her from flopping onto the floor is one of his hands supporting her while the other draws out her orgasm by moving against her in slow circles. Baal rides her to his own climax, slamming both hands flat on the floor on either side of her head and leaning into his thrusts until he makes a noise in the back of his throat and goes still inside her.

When he withdraws from her body and carries her into the bedroom, Sam closes her eyes as Baal settles against her on their bed. "Oh, we're definitely keeping that outfit," she sighs.

"The neighbors would be bitterly disappointed if we threw it out," Baal informs her. "I made twenty dollars while I was outside."

"You did _not_," Sam giggles, rolling over to toss a pillow at him. Baal deflects the pillow easily and when he moves to pin her to the mattress, she becomes aware of something that makes her laughter trail off in surprise.

Baal arches a dark eyebrow at her as he runs his hand up her thigh. "You _did_ say your husband wouldn't be back until later, Mrs. Carter."

"Come again?"

"Don't mind if I do."

_fin_

  



End file.
